A Woman's Game
by ZabuzasGirl
Summary: In the history of golf Francis Ouimet is known as a legend someone who inspired thousands of people to follow their dreams that anything can happen simply if you work hard and persevere. In 1913 Francis achieved victory against the champion Harry Varden proving nothing is impossible, but what if things weren't as they appeared. What if Francis isn't a he, but a she? Francis/Female
1. Chapter 1

**A Woman's Game Prologue**

In the early 20th century the game of golf was still young and considered a sport reserved for the wealthy. In 1913 a new challenger named by Francis DeSales Ouimet rose up to challenge those who would consider it impossible unheard of for someone of the working class to triumph above all others in order to achieve the ultimate prize. But the path to reaching such a reword isn't without hardship.

In a world where it's difficult for a man in the working class to rise above their station pushing passed the scorn and persecution of the rich it's practically unthinkable for a woman.

Every since she was a little girl Francis has wanted nothing more than to become one of the world's greatest golf players even more so than her idol Harry Varden. Expected to only go to school eventually get married and keep house she's seen as a pariah in society for her unconventional nature and dreams. She is absolutely determined to prove to all doubters that a woman can be on top after competing against others in a mans sport. With the faith and support of all those who truly do believe in her she will succeed in this endeavor.

…And make her father proud.

 **Authors Note: What do you guys think will she?**

 **Please Review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A Woman's Game Chapter 1**

 **Brookline, Massachusetts 1990:**

A herd of sheep was grazing peacefully in the grass that is until an unknown projectile flew into their center. This caused them all to run off frightened.

From around the neighboring trees cam a golfer and his caddy. The projectile turned out to be a golf ball from them. The ball was hit off course leaving them to go through the necessity of retrieving it in order to actually continue. The ball misses its mark just a few yards away from the desired hole meaning there was still a long way to go.

The golfer a Mr. Wallis and his caddy Francis Ouimet searched separately for the ball to cover further ground that way. Behind Mr. Wallis young seven-year-old Francis located the ball first.

"Here it is, sir," she said.

To the dismay of Mr. Wallis the golf ball wasn't in a beneficial position. When he looked her way Francis instantly turned averting her gaze catching the familiar gesture. The moment she did Mr. Wallis kicked the ball into a better spot after checking to make sure no one was watching his action. This provided an easier light of sight to the hole.

After Mr. Wallis tracked the gold ball with his eyes to where it landed he'd barely gone two steps when a squishing noise was heard causing him to freeze. With all the sheep standing around there was one possible thing it could be. That's right it was sheep poop.

Francis grinned at his back concealing her amusement behind a smile.

Mr. Wallis was scrapping the poop off the sole of his shoe with his club in vain. Since it was her job to handle this Francis took the club when he held it out to her cleaning it with a towel.

Slipping the club into the mans golf back with the others something white in the grass caught her interest. Now being on a golf course it wasn't uncommon for golfers to lose track of their balls. Most were recovered, but others were lost. Apparently Francis found one that the owner simply gave up or couldn't be bothered to get it in the first place.

Picking it up Francis saw the label _Vardon Flyer_ painted on it. It was the name of this brand of gold ball. The name Vardon was familiar to her in a sense. She recognized it as belonging to a famous golfer from across the ocean n Europe his full name Harry Vardon. He was a champion.

"Come on! Let's go," called Mr. Wallis, seeing her lagging behind, impatient.

Francis ran to make ground putting the ball in her pocket.

When Francis obtained a small bit of time to herself she went to where she knew a picture of Harry Vardon was hanging. Inside a large building resembling a shed connected to the stables. In fact it used to be part of it until it was converted into the workshop for the Club Caddiemaster. He was in charge of all the caddies working for the Country Club.

At his workstation the Caddiemaster was expertly carving a new club out of wood. On a shelf inside was a framed photograph of Harry Vardon. On it was written _Harry Vardon, Three Time British Open Champion_.

Holding the ball with the champions name in her hand Francis started at the picture in awe and wonder lost in her own little world.

That is until the Caddiemaster noticed Francis lingering in the window of his doorway. Gasping at being caught where she shouldn't Francis gasped running off before she was reprimanded.

The Caddiemaster looked in the line of sight she'd had to see the child's interest was locked onto the Harry Vardon picture.

Francis ran stopping when she got to the opposite side of the stables believing her to be safe. In the paddock a couple of kids were undergoing their riding lessons. Two of then were the children of the man she'd been caddying for earlier.

"That's it. Sit up straight, Sarah," said the Riding Instructor. "Lightly on the reins. There." Handling the reins of her horse Sarah saw Francis on the other side of the fence. She smiled waving at her a friendly gesture Francis mirrored.

Despite being in different social classes these two girls ran into each other once in a while at the Country Club. They could truly call each other friends just yet, but were good acquaintances.

Beside Sarah, mounted on another horse was her brother. Shifting her eyes in his direction Francis watched, but didn't do anything major to attract his attention. Unlike Sarah, Freddie wasn't nearly as kid. In fact eh was downright mean some days. When Freddie did notice her Francis instantly walked away blushing at the contact. Knowing an inclination they didn't Sarah giggled behind her hand.

At dinner in her home that night Francis had an important lesson taught by her father Arthur Ouimet. As the eldest child in the family Francis worked to help support her family when she wasn't in school. Hard work meant a great deal to her father so he made a point to imprint it on all of his children especially her.

Arthur had in his possession a glass jar where put kept his earnings instead of saving it in a bank for the families use. Now it was her turn.

"This is how we do it, Francis," said Arthur, taking the lid of the jar off. Taking the money he earned for the week out of his vest pocket he slipped it inside with the money already there. "We work hard and we bring all the money home."

"Work hard. Bring home the money," repeated Francis, adding her own few coins from her caddy job into the jar.

Arthur aimed a proud glace at his wife Mary where she was washing the dishes. Arthur gently stroked her daughter's hair while she continued eating her supper.

When it was an hour where everyone else was asleep Francis was wide awake reading by the light of a gas lamp next to her bed. N her hand was the Vardon Flyer ball she'd found that day.

Francis set the ball on top of a tiny empty glass bottle. The book forgotten she sat there for a while doing nothing else but gazing at it lost in thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**A Woman's Game Chapter 2**

The next day at the Country Club Francis was sitting outside of the Cabbiemasters building. She watched solemn as other cabbies ran our, similar to her age, laughing. As the only female caddie working at the Country Club it was a lonely existence for her. She didn't have that many friends. No one really interacted with her except for clients she was paired with and few people who even tolerated her presence in their world.

The Cabbiemaster appeared after providing a caddie with equipment eh required for a golfer he was caddying for. The strange part is he was carrying an extra club in his hand. It was too small for a full gown man to use.

Initially she assumed it was for one of the kid golfers taking lessons here on the course with their parents.

Oh, how wrong she actually was on this idea.

To her surprise the Caddiemaster went to her lying the club against the wall next to Francis. The Caddiemaster didn't say a single word just walked away. He didn't give her a reason as to why, but this golf club was now hers.

Someone was watching over her in this Country club ruled by men even if he was stone-faced.

Late at night when all were thought to be abed Mary Ouiment was woken from her slumber by a strange noise she didn't recognize in her home. Quietly she got out of bed without waking her husband. After lighting a glass lamp, carrying it in her hand, she made her way through the house to where the noise kept getting louder.

Opening the bedroom door Mary found her youngest daughter awake in her bed by the light of a lamp. Francis was out of bed holding the golf club the way she'd seen other golfers do attempting to imitate them in technique. Barely grazing the ball with the club she aimed for it to roll into the cup on the floor. Instead it rolled in a different direction.

"Francis, what in the world are you doing," scolded Mary Ouiment. "It's after midnight! You're keeping our sister up. Go to bed."

Francis obeyed putting the club against a cabinet before climbing into her bunk.

"Darlings, go tot sleep," said Mary. "No talking. No noises. I mean it."

In the morning during breakfast Francis was caught reading a pamphlet at the table by her father.

"What have you go there, Francis," asked Arthur Ouiment. "Hmm?"

So engrossed in what she was reading Francis didn't know her father was referring to her.

"Francis," remarked Mary, drawing Francis's attention to her. She then gestured at her husband showing he wanted something.

"Can I see him, Father," said Francis, holding her pamphlet out to him. "Please?"

"What's she talking about? See who," sighed Arthur, tiredly.

"Harry Varden," said Francis, eagerly.

Taking the pamphlet Arthur read the cover. On it was a picture drawn of a golfer, Harry Varden the Stylist. He was a professional golfer, practically a god in the sport, who was making a guest appearance in town for a demonstration this very day.

Arthur was not amused.

"Any 'gentleman' who plays this game is not a friend to you," he said, firm.

"I know. But he's the greatest ever," insisted Francis.

Believing it would do Francis some good, Mary said "Arthur, I don't see the harm in-."

"Not another word," said Arthur, shaking his head, rising from the table to leave for work. "The girl goes to school today. That's the end of it."

Francis deflated instantly falling back against her seat downhearted. She lost her appetite after that.

She failed to mark the wheels turning in her mother's head.

Sitting on the front porch Francis was securing her books together before heading off to school. Inside her mother was advising a neighbor to mind her younger siblings while she went to do her trading.

"Francis, leave your books. I've got shopping to do," said Mary, stepping off the porch purse in hand. "You come with me now."

Dropping her books on the steps Francis rushed to catch up with her mother. Confused, she said "But Father said I had to go to school today…"

"Well you can miss school for one day. Besides I need help with me packages," said Mary, taking her daughters hand. "Come along."

So then mother and daughter were off on foot for the city of Boston. Fortunately the distance wasn't far. Inside the hustle and bustle of the city a large number of people were converging on the one same place. It wasn't until they rounded a corner did Francis realize where her mother was actually leading her.

Outside a storefront hung a banner for Harry Varden. The exact location where he was holding his demonstration.

"What could be causing such a fuss," said Mary, attempting to sound nonchalant. She didn't succeed.

Francis grinned in delight at her mother.

Giving Francis a gentle push, Mary chuckled "Go on. I'll find you."

Francis bolted for the building. Maneuvering around the crowds. Francis squeezed through any space she found find. Times such as this were when her tiny size was such a big advantage. After a little while she reached the front of the mob. There she found a sight she'd never forget in all her life.

Harry Varden had just done a perfect practice swing with his club. Aiming the gulf ball high into the practice course etched into a tarp. Applause rang on cue at his expertise. Francis was entirely star struck widened eyes only for him.

Graciously accepting the applause, Harry Varden said "Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen. I'll now presume upon your goodwill and request the services of a volunteer. Anyone?"

Francis didn't hesitate for a moment.

Seizing the opportunity Francis leapt onto the platform. Her actions were met with an onslaught of laughter from the crowd both of her size and gender.

At first, because of her size, Harry Varden failed to notice her since Francis was initially behind him. It wasn't until a bystander pointed Francis out to him did he finally spot her.

"Oh," chuckled Harry Varden, smiling. More laughter erupted. "Hello. What's your name?" He held an outstretched hand to her.

"Francis," she said, shaking his hand.

"Hello, Miss Francis," said Harry Varden, placing the golf ball on the floor. "Now do you know what this is?" he took a club offered by his caddie.

Since she was a caddie herself Francis recognized it immediately. "A brassie," she said.

Impressed, Harry Varden said "So it is. Have a bash."

Taking the club Francis took a stance. Assuming she had everything done correct she took a swing. The ball bounced pathetically on the hard floor.

The crowd thought it immensely entertaining at her expense.

Shrinking a bit at their amusement Francis searched for her mother. She found her at the front.

Nodding her head in encouragement, Mary mouthed "Go on."

Harry Varden shared the same sentiments.

Lowering himself to her level, Harry Varden said "That's all right, Francis. Even in our darkest hour, we must always remember, you never despair. Have you held a live bird in you hands?" She nodded. He then adjusted her hands accordingly in the right grip. "Not too hard to hurt her. Just firm enough to stop it from flying away. Try it again." He stepped away allowing her the proper room.

Using the advice he provided her Francis made another attempt after taking a deep calming breath. This time it was so extremely better. The ball actually flew into the tarp skyline.

Instead of mocking Francis this time the mob was praising her. Mary, most of all was very proud of her daughter.

"Did you see that," bragged Mary, grinning to a person standing nearby.

Practically glowing from all the attention Francis looked at Harry Varden receiving a wink in reply.

That very same day in the light of the early evening Francis was in the yard practicing her swings. Totally unaware of her father observing her from an upstairs window holding the pamphlet of Harry Varden in his hands a blank expression on his face. This wasn't the path he wanted for her.

 **Authors Note: So do you guys believe she should have a relationship with Harry Varden when she's older as we get further into the movie or that boy in earlier chapters that have already been mentioned?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A Woman's Game Chapter 3**

 **1912:**

Eleven years after that faithful day in the city of Boston Francis Ouimet is just as passionate about golf as ever. Her mother is testament to that fact.

One night as Mrs. Ouimet was lying in bed with her husband at a very late hour she heard a very familiar noise coming from one of her children's bedrooms. Quietly Mary Ouimet slipped out of bed so not to disturb her husband and went down the hall. As usual it was her daughter Francis practicing her golf again at this late hour.

Mary Ouimet groaned "Francis. It's after midnight."

"Just one more, Mother," implored Francis.

Mary Ouimet nodded smiling at her firstborn.

Smiling back Francis gently tapped her club on the ball. The golf boll rolled into the tin cup she had acting as a hole on the floor.

In the morning Francis went to work at her job as a caddie at the Country Club while her siblings went to school. Inside the kitchen Mary Ouimet was making another addition to the scrapbook she'd been keeping over the years of her daughters exploits in golf and everything she came to like about it as she grew up.

The most recent one is a newspaper article of Francis coming out victorious at her high school. She had it carefully glued onto a clean page.

 _Ouimet Wins Public High School Championship_

Francis had almost not been permitted to compete in the competition because of her gender and it being all boys, but in the end she managed to convince the official's to give her a shot. She'd stunned them all with her skill.

Mary Ouimet couldn't have been more proud. She just wished her husband would share her sentiments. As Francis grew up into a strong, capable, and confident young woman Arthur Ouimet showed more ever increasing disapproval and disdain towards her interest in the sport. He wanted her to focus on work and eventually going to college not wasting her time on a sport ruled by the wealthy where they would never accept her. This made the relationship between father and daughter quite strained. Don't get her wrong Francis loved her father very much and was devoted to him, but he made it extremely difficult to maintain. Francis merely wanted to make him proud.

On the golf course in the Country Club a well-respected member had requested Francis as his caddie for the day. Francis was always more than happy to act as his caddie. He always had a kind word to say to Francis asking her how things were going with her family along with her practicing with golf. He was one of the few people here who actually saw no problem with treating her as an equal both inside and outside of the sport.

Lugging Mr. Hastings clubs over her shoulder Francis spotted him waiting for her at the first round of the course.

"Mr. Hastings," greeted Francis.

"Ah, Miss Francis," said Mr. Hastings, smiling.

"Sir," said Francis, pulling out a club for him as she was walking.

The two shook hands with Mr. Hastings accepting the club.

"We now lack but one essential to complete the swift appointment of our round, your clubs," said Mr. Hastings.

"My clubs, sir," said Francis, worriedly. "Caddies aren't allowed on the course. If Mr. Campbell sees me out there-."

Mr. Alec Campbell, the Caddiemaster.

"You let me worry about Campbell. Go. Get those clubs," instructed Mr. Hastings. "You go, girl. Get those clubs."

Francis went running to get them from where she had them in the cabbies cabin as fast as her legs could carry her placing Mr. Hastings clubs on the wall. With how fast she was moving it wouldn't take long. She didn't know what was going on, but she was going to enjoy it.

"Hup, hup, hup, hup," said Mr. Hastings.

From start to finish Francis shoots a fine round. The whole time Mr. Hastings is encouraging lending criticism whenever he thought she needed it. On the number fifteen hole out of eighteen Francis so far have seven swings if she got the ball in the hole it would be good for that part of the course. It would be a tiny bit difficult considering the ball had fallen into a sand dune right beside the actual hole. No problem for Francis she could get it out easy as pie.

Francis got into a stance adjusting her grip on the club prepared to swing. She raised her head to recheck her position and on the top of a hill overlooking the course she saw Mr. Campbell staring at her intently with an impassive blank face.

Francis felt her stomach drop knowing full well she was banned from doing the course because of her caddie status. Nerves getting the best of her Francis swung, but instead of the club knocking the ball out it hit sand.

Francis deflated a bit, but worked herself up to get the ball out. The next one got the ball out and she was able to get it back onto the grass in close proximity to the hole. Later on Francis ended up with a total score of 81.

It was dark outside now. Francis had a little more work to do cleaning some equipment. So she went to the caddies cabin and put her clubs away.

"What did you shoot?"

Francis turned to find the Caddiemaster, Mr. Campbell, watching her. He must've been waiting for her to come back. After his unannounced appearance at hole 15 he'd vanished.

Francis swallowed figuring he was about to fire her.

"Uh, an 81, sir," said Francis.

"What did you take on 15," asked Mr. Campbell.

"A nine, sir," said Francis.

"So you shot an 81 first time around on the toughest golf course in New England. With a nine," said Mr. Campbell.

"Well, I…I think…," stuttered Francis. "Well, I saw you standing there, knowing that caddies aren't supposed to play…"

"Go on," coaxed Mr. Campbell.

"I…I think I got a little nervous, sir," said Francis, quietly.

"We needed to see how you handled yourself," said Mr. Hastings, sticking his head in through the doorway.

"Handled myself," said Francis, frowning, not following the direction they were taking the conversation.

"National Amateur Championship's here next month," said Mr. Campbell.

Eyes wide, gawking, looking back and forth between both men, Francis said "Are you saying that I can…What do I have to do? I'll do anything."

"You have to play in the qualifier," said Mr. Campbell.

Mr. Hastings said "That's the easy part. You have to be approved by the Executive Committee."

The Executive Committee was very meticulous about the sort of people they allowed to play in their competitions. Hearing them mentioned raised a huge red flag to Francis.

Confidence sinking, Francis said "They're not gonna let me play. I'm a woman. They won't even consider me. I can hear plain as day what they're going to tell us. That a woman has no place in a sport ruled by men. The rules-."

"The rules speak of a player," said Mr. Hastings. "They don't specify from one gender to another."

Looking at these two seasoned golf veterans with brand new eyes, Francis whispered "You really think I have chance."

Shrugging, nonchalantly, Mr. Hastings quipped "Would we be here talking to you about this is we didn't?"

No, no they wouldn't. Time to take a chance.

 **Authors Note:**

 **Wow, over a year. My sincerest apologies for the delay, my friends.**

 **None of you are going to believe what happened to me recently. I was on the way to get my nails done for a potential job interview when suddenly another car slams into my from behind. An idiot driver wasn't paying attention so I and the car in front of me got hit pretty hard. I'm fine, got lucky, not a scratch on me, but it could've been a lot more serious. Right now the side of my head hurt and my left side is really starting to feel the pain. Nothings broken just sore and bruised.**

 **Bad news is my car got totaled. I really liked this car to I've had it for three years. Good news is I'm going to be able to buy a new one, unfortunately, it'll be a while before I can.**

 **Today was looking so bright and then this crap happened.**

 **For those of you who drive here, take my advice. EYES ON THE ROAD! I came out alive this time around. The same thing might not happen for any of you if you get into an accident. It's harsh, but the truth.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A Woman's Game Chapter 4**

Mr. Hastings wasn't kidding when he said the easy part would be actually passing the qualifier instead of meeting with the Executive Committee for the National Amateur Championship.

After the talk she had with Mr. Hastings and Mr. Campbell she immediately filled out an entry application. Resigning from her position as a caddie for the Country Club she prepared herself along with one of her very few best dresses and met with the Executive Committee no less than the following day.

It all happened so fast, but Francis needed to move quickly if she was to be successfully admitted into the competition.

So here she was sitting in the office of the Club Secretary to meet with him and Embry Wallis with Mr. Hastings to sponsor her. Embry Wallis is someone Francis had been a caddie for many times before in the past. So some points to her since he already knew her to an extent, but that didn't guarantee she would be let in on that alone. Francis was gonna have to seriously work for it.

Reading over her completed entry application, the Club Secretary said "You're a caddie here?"

Nodding proudly, Francis said "Yes, sir. For ten years. I just recently resigned to preserve my status as an amateur."

"What, no plans to turn professional," said Embry Wallis, in good natured sarcasm.

Francis took no offense. She was acquainted with Embry Wallis by now to know that even though it was a bit mocking he didn't actually mean anything insulting by it.

Shaking her head, Francis said "Uh, no, sir. I plan to have a career in business once I save enough of the funds to attend college."

"Oh business," said Embry Wallis, brow quirked.

"Yes," confirmed Francis.

"What sort of business," said Embry Wallis.

Before Francis could sufficiently answer the door opened and in came Stedman Comstock. He's a prominent patron and member of the Country Club. The very second she saw him enter a sinking feeling fell to the pit that is now Francis's stomach. She'd never caddied for him before, but from what Francis heard he wasn't all that pleasant. Something told Francis she would not be happy to hear she was trying to fain admittance into the National Amateur Championship especially since she is a woman it was is deemed a men's only sport.

"Howard, we need," began Mr. Comstock, cutting off when he realized the person he was here to see is already occupied with other guests. "Sorry. Carry on."

But Mr. Comstock did not leave.

Continuing where he left off, folding his hands atop the desk he was seated behind, the Club Secretary said "What's your home club? I don't see it here. They have to sponsor you."

"My home club," said Francis, casting a nervous glance at Mr. Hastings.

Mr. Hastings ever the supportive friend simply nodded smiling encouragement at her. The expression on his face told her to have courage. He'd back her up.

Upon his direction, confidently, Francis said "I'm between clubs at the moment."

Chuckling in amusement as he sat in an armchair, realistically, Embry Wallis said "Look, see here. You may have qualified as a player, but this just isn't the sort of thing that caddies do."

"You're a caddie," said Mr. Comstock in disgust.

Holding her head up, Francis said "Yes, sir, I was."

"Caddies don't play in the Amateur. It's not for your kind. Members only," said Mr. Comstock, disdainfully. He then rudely pressed his own business in blatant disregard to those already there, expecting them to just get up and leave now that he was there. "We need to discuss the opening on the greens committee."

As polite and patient as she could possibly make herself, Francis said "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. But there must be a for somebody who's not a member to compete."

"Not this year," sneered Mr. Comstock.

Francis was lost for words.

For a few seconds it fully appeared as if Francis was going to give up. But then she thought better of it choosing to fight.

How timely with Mr. Comstock's following comment.

Scowling, he scoffed "As if she could afford the fifty dollar entrance fee."

That caught her interest.

"Excuse me, sir…if I were to pay the fifty dollars, would I still need to belong to a club," said Francis.

"Well, technically, no," said the Club Secretary.

The man's compatriots glared at him to shut up.

Embry Wallis sighed "Look, you would still need a club member in good standing to sponsor you, and-."

Rising from his chair, prepared for this outcome, smug, Mr. Hastings said "And…that would be me."

Anyone who would say Mr. Hastings isn't a gentleman is an idiot and they knew it. They had one more card to play.

"Miss Ouimet, forgive my frankness, but you are a woman. There's never been a woman competing in the Amateur before," said Club Secretary.

Shrugging her shoulders, Francis said "I don't mind being the first. And before you even say it's against the rules Mr. Comstock, I've already checked them. There is no point at any time does it distinguish that a woman cannot play in the Amateur. It only speaks of a player not elaborating on genders."

Yeah none of the opposing party could contest her on that. It was written in the rules for all to see whether they liked it or not. They had no choice but to leave it be.

Especially with the mention of a lawyer being brought in the case if they sought to continue to stand in her way when she's already met the majority of the requirements. There's just one left.

 **Authors Note:**

 **I think we can all agree that the majority of the Committee needs to go to hell. The reason why this chapter has taken so long to get up is because I absolutely hate that last scene. Whenever I'm watching the movie I always skip over it, but here it was unavoidable much to my own infinite displeasure. Definitely puts you off the mood for watching the movie.**


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